


Family

by Markovia



Series: Hunted [2]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Siblings, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 10:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markovia/pseuds/Markovia
Summary: A simple moment between the Orihara siblings.





	Family

**Author's Note:**

> I had this scene in my head and could help but write it. Enjoy!

“Yeah, sure,” the young man said, tapping the handset with his fingers. He leaned back against the wall and started flicking the spiral phone cord with his free hand. “I’ll need some more money sent this month.”

 

_“Why?”_

 

Izaya frowned and started winding the cord around his forefinger. “Because Kururi and Mairu are going on a field trip with school. I need to get them a tent and some camping equipment.”

 

_“Okay. We’ll send some through with the usual transfer. How are they?”_

 

Weird, he thought. Fucking weird. “They’re fine.”

 

_“Good to hear. Will you be able to sign the forms to let them go?”_

 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’m eighteen now so I count as an adult.”

 

_“I always forget how old you’ve grown.”_

 

That’s because you never saw me grow up, he thought, bitterly.

 

_“We’ll speak to you soon, Izaya. Love you.”_

 

The dial tone sounded before he could reply. With a sigh, he hung the handset back up on the wall and ran a hand through his hair. It had been a long time since he’d seen his parents face to face, he wondered if they would even recognise him. He pushed himself away from the wall and peered into the mirror on the opposite side of the hallway. Upon his graduation from Raijin Academy he’d fostered a new image for himself. His clothes were dark but striking, very much like Izaya himself, and he’d really taken to the fur-lined jacket he’d picked up from a market around a month ago. In fact, he’d worn the coat almost everyday since purchasing it. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the two silver rings on his forefingers, which he’d worn since his eighteenth birthday months ago. They were presents; one from his mother, one from his father. Izaya had never been one for sentimentality but he liked the way they looked and the gentle weight they gave to his fingers. His gaze shifted to the face of his reflection and he smirked unpleasantly at the sight of the dark bruise circling his eye - the result of another ‘scuffle’ with Shizuo.

 

“Izaaaa!”

 

The young man sighed irritably and stomped down the hallway into the kitchen. His little sisters were sat opposite ends of the dining table, both looking at him expectantly. Mairu was swinging her legs animatedly in the air while Kururi was sat perfectly still, her large doe eyes blank and bored.

 

“Quiet, jeez,” he chided, moving back toward the stove. He opened the lid of the pot on top of the hob and picked up the wooden spoon he discarded when his parents called. The stew he’d prepared was bubbling pleasantly and the delicious smell filled the kitchen. It would have been quite a homely scene had Izaya not been visibly twitching with frustration. He had a number of emails to reply to and information to follow up on for his burgeoning relationship with the Awakusu-kai, he did _not_ want to be stuck here looking after these pests.  

 

“But Iza,” Mairu whined, clearly aware of how annoying her tone was by the sneer on her face. “I’m hungry!”

 

“And dinner is coming, if you’ll shut up for one fucking second,” he seethed, grabbing the pair of oven gloves from the counter. He picked up the pot and placed it carefully in the centre of the table. Mairu squealed and reached forward but Izaya quickly batted her hands away. “It’s hot. Let me serve it or you’ll burn yourself.”

 

Mairu smirked and sat back in her seat. “As if you’d care.”

 

Izaya rolled his eyes and began serving their food. Mairu’s smirk was disturbingly close to his own. As he handed them their bowls of food, he wondered if they would end up like him when they grew up. His influence was already obvious from their bizarre split of their own personality traits and there were times when he looked at them and all he could see was himself. When they shed their abnormal childishness they may even grow up to be better, nicer people than Izaya. He’d grown up alone, stuck in his own head - at least the twins had each other. They had Izaya too, though he was loathed to admit it.

 

“There,” he stated, setting Mairu’s bowl down in front of her. “Don’t burn your mouth. Or do actually, it might shut you up.”

 

Mairu giggled and punched his arm playfully. Izaya scowled and turned when he felt something tugging at his other sleeve. Kururi was looking up at him with those big vacant eyes of hers and her mouth was set in a hard line.

 

“What?” he asked, brows furrowing in the centre. Kururi unsettled him more than Mairu sometimes. She was so still and quiet but he knew she could be just as vicious as her sister. Oh yes, he knew that _very_ well from the times they decided they wanted to play-fight with him. No amount of telling them to ‘fuck off’ would deter them from jumping on his back and jabbing the back of his knees until he toppled to the floor. Kururi was usually the silent jabber. “You want something?”

 

“Water,” she replied, softly.

 

Izaya nodded and crossed the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. He set it down in front of her before lowering himself into the seat between them. The Orihara family ate in relative silence, the only noises sounding from their eating and drinking. Oddly enough, they switched their traits when eating. Kururi was loud and messy  whereas Mairu was methodical in the way she cut up her food and chewed it all before swallowing quietly. It drove Izaya _mad._ When they were done, the man told the twins to gather their plates and load their dishwasher.

 

“If we do will you read to us?” Kururi asked, solemnly.

 

“No.”

 

Mairu chuckled darkly. “Then we’ll throw the plates on the floor.”

 

Izaya raised a brow and stared at their expectant faces for a moment before sighing dramatically. “Fine. Clear up, wash and call me when you’re in bed. No pissing around.”

 

Evil little shits, he thought to himself. He moved out of the kitchen and headed down the darkened hallway toward his bedroom, the one haven he had in the house. His parents had worked abroad for a long time so he’d been raising the girls since they were very young. When Izaya was growing up he’d had various nannies and tutors but upon turning fourteen he lived alone. It was fine, he was more than capable of taking care of himself and the solitude meant that he had the freedom to do what he liked. Fourteen, he thought. Mairu and Kururi were nine years old at the moment, fourteen was five years away.

 

Izaya planned to let them live by themselves at fourteen. He needed an office for the business he was forming - he was already earning a lot of money from the few jobs he’d taken on. It wouldn’t be very professional to have two young, annoying girls running around while he was trying to work. It also wouldn’t be safe for the twins to be involved in the underworld he dealt with but he was less concerned about that. The girls were already cunning, clever and, since they started attending martial arts classes, tough as old boots. They’d grow up capable, he thought. Plus, they had each other. They wouldn't be lonely, not like he had been. Not like he was. The information broker would be twenty three by then. He could invest in an office prior to that date and commute, he would still be needed to look after the twins in the evening. Izaya sat down at his desk and switched on his laptop as he shrugged off his coat. There was a nice place in Shinjuku that had caught his eye which warranted further investigation.

 

Ten minutes later he heard the chorus of his sisters’ voices holler from down the hallway. Izaya locked his computer with a sigh and headed out of his bedroom toward theirs, which was at the other end of the corridor.

 

“Izaya!”

 

“Izaya!”

 

“Iza-”

 

“Yes!” he exclaimed, throwing open their bedroom door. The sisters were in their matching pajamas, sitting in the twin beds which they’d pushed together. “I’m here, keep it down. Fucking hell.”

 

Mairu glowered at him and placed her hands over Kururi’s ears. “Iza, you shouldn’t use that vile language. Kururi is sensitive.”

 

“I’m fine,” Kururi murmured, quietly. She jabbed two fingers into Mairu’s waist which made her sister shriek and fall back onto her side of the bed.

 

Izaya smirked at the quieter twin, slightly admiring her forthrightness. “Right, let’s get this over with. What do you want me to read?”

 

Mairu recovered quickly and came to kneel at the end of the bed so she could drag Izaya down onto the bed between them. The man groaned and twisted around so he was sitting up with his back against the mountain of pillows in front of the headboard. Kururi snuggled underneath one of his arms and rested her head against his chest. Mairu handed Izaya a book before getting back under the covers. The man sighed but allowed her to curl up with her head on his thigh. He looked down at the cover of the book and raised a brow skeptically. For once, he didn’t bother complaining

 

“The Bad Beginning,” he read, flicking the front cover open. He settled the book on the free side of his lap and shifted his body so he was a little more comfortable. When he opened his mouth again to read, he was stopped when he felt Kururi’s hand touch the side of his face gently.

 

“What happened to your eye?” she asked, looking up at him. If he didn't know any better he would have said she was concerned.

 

“Nothing,” he replied, dismissively.

 

“It was Shizuo, wasn't it?” Mairu said, turning her head to the left so she could stare at him too.

 

Izaya frowned. “Why do you care?”

 

“If you go blind you won't be able to read to us,” Kururi mumbled. She dropped her hand from his cheek and let it fall into Mairu’s waiting one.

 

“I see,” the informant stated. They were strange, unlovable even, but they had their moments. His gaze softened a little. “So why did you pick this?”

 

“The main characters are orphans like us,” Mairu answered, her tone oddly flat.

 

Izaya raised a brow and looked down at their joined hands. “We’re not orphans.”

 

“We might as well be,” Kururi said.

 

The information broker sighed and decided not to push the conversation further. They were too old for their age, he never questioned things this early. Not out loud anyway. Izaya picked up the book again and started to read. Slowly, he moved his free hand and laid it across their laced fingers, holding them comfortingly. The twins didn't speak anymore but Izaya read until he felt their bodies go slack against him and their breathing slowed with sleep. He leaned back against the pillows with a sigh, wishing someone had been there to read to him.

 

He marked the page and shut the book. Before he became comfortable he reached across Mairu and switched on their nightlight, knowing well that they were terrified of the dark. Izaya wouldn't admit it, but he was too. He always had been. His work could wait one night, he thought, shutting his eyes. The weight of his sisters became light and he drifted into sleep, a boy who was barely a man with too much salt in his wounds.

  



End file.
